


Red Dead 2 One-Shots

by brendonstitties



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: ;), Jeez, Micah maybe not so much, Other, So most fluff and depressed stuff, idk bot smut, john starves himself at one point, not very good at it, tehehehe, well Arthur won't die at all i can assure you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-02-10 20:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18667504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brendonstitties/pseuds/brendonstitties
Summary: basically just some self-written one-shots that I was too lazy to make into a whole story.i find myself to be quite lazyI'm gonna be a horrible book writerbut don't worry Arthur won't die i won't allow itAnd Micah will get shot in at least one of every one of my Red Dead 2 fics i can guarantee that.plz just read it





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> well idk what thefuck this is I'm pretty sure this is from Tumblr
> 
> I realize I'm literally a mess but my mom said if i get through my two online classes in the next two weeks i can get another rat so I'm focusing really hard on that XD
> 
> so uh... Please excuse the very long breaks and short chapters XD

((Okay, so this first work will just be some drabble off of Tumblr where John basically hunts all the time with Charles and Arthur and whatever he takes home goes to Abigail, Jack, and Uncle mostly and John usually gets nothing and relies mainly on crackers, canned strawberries and water. Not the best diet D: ))

((but i assure you he gets fed in the end 😂😂))

 

John's stomach had been rumbling ever since they moved into an actual house, mainly because he was draining all his money into paying off his house, and whatever he hunts he takes home and cooks up for everyone else. Well, Abigail mainly did the cooking but he made sure to help too.

He wasn't really married to Abigail anymore. He knew they didn't have that fling that they used to, and Abigail did too. They were more just there to help raise Jack, a big portion of their money was going towards his education too.

John giving up his meal every night helped everyone else be full, and that was his main concern. But after the first few weeks, Arthur and Charles could tell that he wasn't doing so good.

"Hey John, you okay? We've noticed a uh... Certain change in your appearance." Charles had asked John, all three men were coming back from a good hunting trip.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine, just a little tired is all..." John mumbles, rubbing his eyes lazily.

"Well, how's about you come to my place for dinner... I ain't got no one over, and I could use some help." Arthur asked, mainly just trying to coax John to his house to make sure he wasn't completely depriving himself of food.

He knew how tough times could be, but John still needed to think of himself sometimes. It's not too easy to care for others when you can barely care for yourself.

"Eh... I guess. Abigail's been bugging me about getting out of the house, something about me takin' up too much space." John said, waving his brief goodbyes to Charles along with Arthur, as the two of them rode off.

Arthur, Charles, and John had all split the money, so that meant each had a decent place to live.

Arthur finally had his dream home, which was any home in general, which was a secluded cabin in the woods, entering the snowy mountains.

As they finally arrived at Arthur's cabin, John hopped off his horse and grabbed his catches, two rabbits and a few squirrels, and rushed inside to get out of the cold.

Arthur had only caught himself a rabbit and a raccoon, he didn't need much for himself since he had to make sure John didn't starve himself tonight.

 

******

After fire-roasting their dinner, Arthur and John had sat down at the dining table, Arthur scooting a big plate of food towards John.

"Uhh... Are you sure you don't want some of this Arthur?" John asked hesitantly, but he was eyeing the food like a starving vulture.

"Go ahead John. I know you're hungry, can literally see it in your eyes." Arthur said with a chuckle, smiling when John instantly dug in.

He didn't even deny his hunger, it was the best meal he'd eaten in a while.

After dinner, John had grown very tired, and while he was sitting in a chair reading, he had dozed off completely, and Arthur had managed to move him to a bed, pulling a blanket over and maybe giving him a small kiss on the forehead good night.

That's all John needed.


	2. micah fucking dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically this is just something I came up with in a whim of unbridled rage. he pisses me the fuck off and I really just want to shoot the fuck out of him.  
> sorry about that, I think you can understand my anger.
> 
> this is basically just Arthur slowly coming to realize that Micah's setting them all up and he just decides to shoot him in the middle of the woods and be done with it, whilst also blaming it on the Lemoyne Raiders. oh, Arthur doesn't have TB in this and everyone is remotely happy. and they'll be even happier without Micah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just really mad at Micah no other way to put it

Arthur's week had been hectic. Filled with O'Driscolls and Micah's annoying self, he just wanted a break. A long, relaxing break.

But of course, that wouldn't happen. Dutch just had to force him to go scope out a suspected O'Driscoll hideout, with none other than Micah.

He resented Micah with all his being, and most of the time he wouldn't mind putting a bullet through his skull in front of everyone. He was a horrible man, and he nearly murdered half of Strawberry just to get a goddamn pair of guns.

As the two men rode in silence, Arthur thought deep and hard about what he wanted to do. On one hand, he could just go through with this and just get back to camp without any fuss, but on the other hand he could just shoot Micah dead right here, and a majority of his problems would be solved within a heartbeat.

He always suspected Micah was some sort of snitch, there was no way he was getting the money he was through the gang, not to mention his overwhelming popularity with the law and the Pinkertons. It's almost as if he were working alongside-

That's when it clicked. Micah had been going out into town by himself a lot lately, and Arthur thought it was just a coincidence that things started happening when Micah went out more, but the more he thought about it, the more guilty Micah sounded... Even more reason to pop a cap in his ass (sorry.).

"So Cowpoke, what's going on in that noggin' of yours?" Micah said out of nowhere, nearly startling Arthur.

"Thinking of different ways to kill you." Arthur retorted, although it wasn't entirely a lie.

"Aw come on, you don't mean that. You love me just about as much as anyone else in the gang." Micah said with an evil snicker, earning a huff from Arthur, who slowly but surely trailed behind Micah.

He could do it now, and it'd be ok. No one would know. No one would find Micah.

Then, as complete silence fell on them both, a gunshot and a wail of pain was heard. Another shot, another cry of agony. Shots kept piercing the air, one after another, until the chamber was empty and there was no more life left in Micah as he fell limp to the ground.

Arthur stood there in disbelief, shocked at what he had just done. He'd killed a man he'd known for years, an experience he'd never been through before. Gone in an instant, but not a problem anymore.

Arthur knew what he did was wrong. He knew he'd most likely regret it his entire life, but at the same time he knew it was for the best. Micah did nothing but hurt the people that helped him. He was truly a monster, and Arthur had put an end to his treachery.

But the man was smart enough to know what he had to do. He quickly jumped off his horse, looking around as he slowly rolled Micah's dead body into a nearby bush, covering it completely with leaves and handfuls of dirt so he could never be found. He never wanted this man to be found, as horrible as it sounded. He didn't deserve a service or any kind of memoriam.

After hiding the body as best as he could, Arthur realized he had blood all over his arms and shirt now, something that would be hard to explain to the camp. As much as he didn't want to, Arthur knew what he had to do.

Reloading his revolver, he shakily took a breath, holding it in as he shot himself point blank in the shoulder, crying out loudly in pain as he did so. One more shot to his thigh, and he was set to go give a bogus story to the camp in hopes Micah's death would look legit and not staged.

It had all happened so quickly that he just realized what he had done, sitting down with wide eyes on the green grass, contemplating his decisions. There was no going back now, Micah was dead and that was that. It felt great to take his life, to take the pain and misery he was causing, but at the same time, Dutch would be infuriated to the point of being completely irrational.

After pondering in his own mind for a few moments, Arthur shook his head to clear his mind, standing up with a pained look, limping to his horse, slowly hopping on and rushing himself to camp before he blacked out.

 

~~

As Arthur got to camp, he knew he had to sell it. He wasn't the best actor, but when it came to situations like these, he could convince even the smartest of men.

He came to a sudden halt, head hung low as he rode into camp, one hand pressed to his shoulder, the other holding the reins tightly.

"Arthur? Arthur oh my goodness!" Miss Grimshaw exclaimed upon seeing Arthur, yelling for everyone to help her as she rushed to the man.

"He's dead... He's dead..." Arthur mumbled as he was helped off his horse, collapsing sheepishly to the ground as he looked up at everyone, a small group gathering around him now.

"Son... What happened?" Dutch had asked as soon as he got to Arthur, eyes widening as he saw the extent of Arthur's wounds.

"Raiders.. they... Came up from behind, shot at us..." Arthur strained, wincing in pain as he was hoisted up on John and Javier's shoulders.

"Where's Micah, Arthur?!" Dutch demanded, his voice sounding slightly troubled.

"They got him... Put holes all in him..." Arthur responded, getting a gasp of surprise from Dutch, almost as if he didn't believe the other man, but the gunshot wounds had sold him the moment he saw Arthur coming in. "He's dead, Dutch... Ain't recovering from that..."

Dutch cleared his throat, certainly overwhelmed by the news. He ran a hand through his hair, now focused on making sure Arthur was okay.  
"Miss Grimshaw, you spend as much time as you need to with Arthur, and I know we're a little low on medicine so me and Hosea will ride into town to get some... Please take care of him, make sure he's okay... We can't lose another man tonight."

Those words alone were enough to make Arthur sob, because he knew how much Dutch cared for Micah, despite how much of an evil rat he was. His main concern was Dutch's happiness, and seeing that be ripped apart was hard to watch, in all honestly.

As Dutch and Hosea hastily rode away (definitely eager to get back to Arthur), Arthur sighed in relief. Maybe now he could get some peace and quiet, and some tender loving care in the wake of Micah's death. Everyone was gathered around him, worried whether he might make it or not, which was all Arthur needed. To know the camp cared about him, especially in his time of dire need. 

These people were truly his family, and if taking Micah down meant that they'd be happy and content, he'd do it a million times over, no matter how much it hurt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> glad to see some holes in that douche nozzle
> 
> also if you like i can do a follow up of this, where Arthur tells someone he killed Micah or some shit, that'd be nice because I imagine John or Javier being like "..... And you didn't invite me?"


	3. Micah fucking dies part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You already know this is a follow up, what else would it be? Another fic about Micah dying, of course. It's my favorite thing besides Bill getting sacked in the face. Or Micah getting punched by Javier. Or Bill getting scared shitless by a psychotic Javier with a knife. I love Javier. Don't you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if I seriously could I'd make a mod where you could just shoot the fuck out of Micah with no consequences and possibly hogtie him and let him drown in mud with only his head dipped in it. Am I being too psychotic? I just really loathe Micah. The guy who plays him is actually pretty cool but fUCK MICAH

Arthur was handling things very badly. He was antsy a lot, skittish whenever someone approached him, and eager to get away from any conversation, whatever it may be about.

Just the other day John had tried to talk to him about a possible job, but Arthur mumbled an excuse and walked off to a tree to nap or read, which usually ended with him sneaking off to go to a saloon.

One day Javier and John had enough, they missed fucking around and having fun with Arthur, it had been weeks since they last went out and did something as friends and not 'colleagues’.

Javier and John both had basically cornered Arthur on the deck on the shore of Clemens Point, waiting until dusk to do so.

“Aye Arthur, can ya talk for a minute?” Javier called to Arthur, John trailing behind him closely.

“Uh… sure. What is it?” Arthur asked, turning around from where he was standing to face Javier and John.

“You haven't been yourself lately, Arthur. What the hell is going on man?” Javier asked, his voice laced with genuine concern rather than anger.

“Whatd'ya mean…?” Arthur mumbled, arms crossed.

“I mean… ever since Micah bit the dust, you've been gloomy. Micah's death wasn't your fault man. He was an asshole and I'm glad he's gone.” Javier said, making sure Arthur could hear him loud and clear.

“Yeah, me too. He kept harassing Abigail and Jack, and never stayed out of anyone's business. I frankly hope he rots in hell.” John chimed in from behind Javier, his glare evident in the soft moonlight.

“See? No one liked him except Dutch and Bill. And I'm pretty sure they're already done and over with him by now.” Javier said, hoping his point got across.

“Fellas… that's not the issue I've been dealing with…” Arthur said, pausing for a moment, “ya see… Micah wasn't killed by no Lemoyne Raiders…”

Javier and John looked at each other, confused as to what Arthur meant. Had he been attacked by O'Driscolls? Maybe even a regular old thief or outlaw roaming around?

“Huh?” Javier said briefly, raising an eyebrow.

“I… I killed Micah. Emptied my revolver doin’ it to.” Arthur said lowly, tilting his head down so his hat covered most of his already shadowed face.

Javier and John stood silent for a moment.  
“Oh.” Javier huffed, a small smile quickly spreading from the corner of his mouth.

“Then how come you didn't invite us?” Javier asked, amusement in his tone.

Arthur was a bit taken aback by Javier's response, taking off his hat to get a good look at his expression.

“....huh?”

“Arthur, let me tell you something cabrone,” Javier started, setting his hand on Arthur's shoulder “I've killed my first cousin without a second thought, only because he tried to hurt my girl at the time. You know damn well if it weren't for Dutch all of us would've had a literal shot at Micah.”

Arthur felt a little better about his situation, but guilt still sunk deep into him.

“And Arthur, you've shot down more men than there are people in Saint Denis, all to protect us. So what if you killed a rat. Camp has been peaceful since he died. And for the first time in forever, i was able to treat Abigail and Jack to sweets without Micah trailing behind me, saying how he'd “do so much more.” John spoke, his voice sincere and warm towards Arthur.

Everything was going swell since Micah's death, Dutch had managed to start saving up money ($3,500 so far) so they'd be able to actually move to Tahiti, and the leader himself seemed to be conversating with everyone rather than just Micah or Arthur. He even brought back a feast of steak, potatoes and vegetables in a wagon one day. That really showed everyone how Micah's demise was good for the entire group.

Arthur was silent for a moment, coming back into reality after thinking hard.

“I guess it was a good thing… don't know why I would've done it for any other reason.” Arthur finished with a huff, realizing that he was now over thinking the whole thing. Micah was dead. People were happy. That was that.

“Good, now can we have our Arthur back? We miss you… You're like the backbone to this group, regardless of what Dutch says. We'd kill anyone for you, and we'd all take a bullet for you. You've helped us out of ruts that Micah got us into. This one thing won't cause us to hate you. Don't over think it.” Javier said reassuringly, trying to make his words sound understandable. He may have seemed like an expert at English but he still struggles to speak sometimes.

Arthur smiled up at Javier, finally standing up and sighing in relief.

“Thank you, Javier. And John. Don't know what I'd do without the two of ya.” he said with a small chuckle, sliding his hat back on and patting the two's shoulders as he began walking back towards camp, a skippy and happy Javier trailing behind him.

“Does this mean we get to go fuck around with the local population again?”

“Yes… John… yes it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my exes name is Micah... And he's a rat that cheated on me. he also ratted one of his friends out bc he had pot 😂 the Apple doesn't fall far from the tree of Micahs


	4. Sean doesn't fucking die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> basically Sean doesn't fucking die bit Micah does.

The attack happened all the sudden. Sean was talking one moment, and the next moment he was dead on the ground as Arthur, Bill, and Micah shot down Grays from every corner of Rhodes.

Arthur didn't even have any time to react to Sean's death, all he could do was shoot to kill any Gray he saw.

“Is he dead?” Bill hollered from a few feet away, aiming and shooting at Grays whilst also ducking to avoid the fire.

“Of course he's dead you idiot!” Arthur hollered back, agitation in his voice as he fired his rifle.

After all the commotion had died down and Arthur had killed the last damn Gray, he made his way over to Sean's body, a look of sorrow plastered on his face.

“Damn shame kid. Damn shame.” Arthur mumbled, kneeling down. “He was a good kid…”

But before Arthur could grieve any further, he heard a groan, causing him to jump in surprise.

“Oohhhhhhhhhh…. Me heeaad…” Sean whined, squinting his eyes to just barely gaze at Arthur. “They feckin shot me, bastards!”

“Godammit- Sean you bafoon! I thought you was dead!” Arthur said in a slight panic, kneeling down to Sean and pulling a bottle of remedy out of his satchel.

As he poured it onto the wound on Sean's head, he had to push the younger lads hand down since it clearly stung a little bit.

"You realize how much you scared us?" Arthur grumbled, grabbing ahold of Sean's arm and hoisting his up on his shoulder, grunting as he did so.

"No ol' Gray can defeat the great Sean MacGuire!" Sean slurred, his voice crackling from how woozy he felt.

"Arthur! Arthur- we lost Micah!" Bill said in an annoyed voice, glaring at Arthur when all he did was shrug and continue to his horse.

"Shit happens." Arthur said, putting Sean upright on his horse, getting on right after him.

"But Arthur-"

"Don't push it Bill- we gotta get back to camp and tell Dutch what happened." Arthur scowled, not in the mood to argue with Bill, seeing as Sean would actually die if they didn't get him to camp quickly.

"You got any opium?" Sean muttered, laughing hastily after his own question "this shit hurts!"

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, getting his horse to go half-speed towards camp, knowing damn well that Sean wasn't kidding.

"Let's not get too carried away- we'll get you back to camp and then you can have a bottle of whiskey, how's that sound?"

"Eh… that sounds feckin great."

 

*back at camp*

 

Bill was tasked with transporting Micah's body to camp, while Arthur was supposed to go straight to camp to tend to Sean, Karen, Mary-Beth and Miss Grimshaw had beaten him to it though.

After making sure Sean was cleaned up, whiskey filled, and asleep, Arthur went back to his tent, sitting down on his cot with a sigh of relief. After such a long day he was happy to finally be where he could rest.

But that didn't last too long, as Bill had come barging into camp hooting and hollering, a sack of something strapped to his saddle.

"I hit the jackpot!" He'd yelled, causing Dutch and Arthur both to leave their tents to check out what was going on.

"What are you blabbering on about now Williamson?" Dutch grumbled, looking as if he were ready to go to bed.

"Dutch- now hear me out- I did this for the sake of the gang." Bill started, hopping off his horse and grabbing the bag as everyone had started gathering around.

"What?!" Dutch questioned again, hands now on his hips.

"This!" Bill said, dumping out the bag to reveal stacks and stacks of cash, leaving Dutch and Arthur wide eyed and bewildered "they were asking for $25,000 for just Micah's body- I figured we could use the money!"

"Bill- you genius!" Dutch said with a laugh, patting Bill's shoulder with a genuine grin on his face.

"Damn." Arthur breathed, still in awe as to how much money was in front of him.

That night seemed to be the best night the gang's had in a while.

They all sang and drank, and Sean had managed to come out and sit with the rest of the group around the fire, passing around his bottle of whiskey as he told everyone about his near death experience.

"One moment, there was silence, the next there was gunfire and dead men everywhere!" Sean said, a bit exaggerated but still making the ladies gawk "and I were on the ground, bleedin' out, beggin' for help!"

Arthur couldn't help but roll his eyes in amusement at Sean's dramatic story, but enjoying it anyways. He knew that if that bullet had went even an inch to the side, Sean wouldn't be here right now, he'd be six feet underground, and the camp would've been silent with grief. He envied the kid, he wanted the same type of charismatic, young spirit that Sean had, instead of his old man complex.

"An' then before I know it Morgan here is draggin' me to safety, shootin' down any godforsaken Gray that comes his way!" Sean said with a hearty laugh, taking a swig of whiskey when he winced in pain.

Dutch had laughed along with him, setting a hand on Arthur's shoulder and squeezing, looking down to him where he was sitting down.

"Thank you son, you protected him with your life. I know Micah didn't make it- but look what his death did for us." Dutch said, hoping to comfort Arthur. "We'll be happy now, we don't gotta worry about a thing, ya hear? Come tomorrow, we'll be out of here and in a proper mansion like we deserve."

"I hope so Dutch." Arthur said, not expecting Dutch to make him face him again with a light drag of his hand.

"We will, son. I promise you."


	5. Javier teaches John Guitar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javier teaches John how to play the guitar.

It was a normal day at Horseshoe Overlook, Dutch was preaching about faith, Arthur was off doing a job with Sean, and Javier was sitting out by a tree playing his guitar to pass the time. He didn't have a specific song in mind, he just played whatever sounded good to him.

Upon hearing the leaves russle behind him, Javier opened his eyes and looked behind him to see John coming towards him with a book in hand, awkwardly smiling as he waved at the other.

"¡Hola amigo! ¿cómo estás?" Javier greeted with a smile, gesturing for John to sit next to him. Usually they'd sit and hang out with eachother every so often, and exchange stories and babble about anything and everything.

John had already been accustomed to Javier's greetings in Spanish, quickly picking up on what some of them meant. It never hurt to learn a little bit of Spanish.

"Estoy bien, ¿y tú?" John replied, nearly startling Javier.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking. Picking up on my native language?" Javier said with a grin, setting down his guitar as John sat down with a chuckle.

"Just a little bit." John said, setting his book down beside his feet. "I actually wanted to ask you if you could teach me how to play… I been wantin' too, but with all that's been going on there just hasn't been any time until now."

Javier thought for a moment. Two people playing guitar in camp? At that point they'd be able to have better music, and maybe even give Javier a break from being their mariachi every night. His fingers could only withstand so much damage between guns and playing the guitar all the time.

"Sure, why not? It's a great thing to learn." Javier said, shrugging as he grabbed his guitar, handing it over to John for a moment.

As Javier began to guide John through how to play, he couldn't help but notice how dead set John was on learning how to play, especially just now. He'd had plenty of time before to ask, but why now? Maybe it was a thing of admiration- he could sense John's jealousy when Javier had his first successful heist, Dutch having rewarded him with a brand new guitar, the one he had now.

"And once you get the hang of all the notes on the first string, it's easier to learn the others. Every time you set your finger down on the top here-" Javier said, pointing to the lines that lay on the spine of the guitar "the note changes, so be careful of how you play."

John was taking mental notes throughout the entire ordeal, wanting badly to be able to play like Javier. He knew he'd never be as good as Javier was, but it never hurt to try. He needed more hobbies, anyways. He couldn't draw, he sucked at writing, and he wasn't able to play any instruments. And, he didn't even know how to work those stupid lightswitches that were in the Saint Denis hotel. (Electricity was still kind of a new thing).

After what seemed like hours (an hour and a half) Javier had managed to teach John an entire song on the guitar, much to his amazement. He didn't take John to be the kind of man who learned quickly, but maybe with him teaching John it was a lot better than some fancy schmuck who just wanted money rather than someone's sweet time.

"So, you enjoy playing now huh?" Javier finished with a smile as John strummed the last note of the song, carefully setting the guitar back down in the grass.

"Yeah, I really do. You uh… think you could teach me more tomorrow?" John asked, a little embarrassed. He didn't like asking people for things, of course unless it was Javier. He knew he could count on him if he needed something, whether it be guitar lessons or a gun in a fight.

"Of course amigo! Anytime, just ask me." Javier replied with a grin, patting John's shoulder as he stood up, grabbing his guitar and quickly setting it up against the tree they were sitting next to, looking over to the stew pot which Pearson was finishing up.

"You hungry now?" Javier started as John stood up, motioning towards the pot of stew "seems like Pearson's finishing up."

"Yeah, a hot meal sounds great right about now." John replied, following Javier to the food wagon to get their bowls.

That night was peaceful for the two, they had eaten their dinner at the small table right outside of camp, where no one could or dared to bother them. Drinking and talking, the two parted their separate ways to call it a night, not before engulfing eachother in a tight hug, tired and goofy grins exchanged as they made their way back to their cots, cheekily smiling until they eventually passed out into a blissful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!


End file.
